


It's all so incredibly loud

by metu



Category: Akira (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU in which everything is good and nothing bad happens, Aged-Up Character(s), Akira is Tetsuo's brother, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But it's barely noticeable, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Not Beta Read, a Slur is said, and Tetsuo's a lil gay, gay! it's gay, they scream and shout and let it all out, this is me trying to fit months of headcanons in 3k and failing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29658888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metu/pseuds/metu
Summary: “You’re wasted,” he taps the sole of Kaneda’s sneaker with his own shoe, and it moves, limply, like it’s not attached to a living body.“Wasted potential,” Kaneda snickers, and he tries to get up. Tetsuo would offer a hand, but he thinks Kaneda deserves to suffer for having dragged him all the way out of his bed at four in the morning.
Relationships: Kaneda Shoutarou/Shima Tetsuo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	It's all so incredibly loud

**Author's Note:**

> hello i wrote this in like. one day so im sorry if it's full of mistakes and it doesn't rly make sense, it's pure indulgence! this is for my friends ume (@[buginc](https://twitter.com/buginc)) and masa (@[ma6amasa](https://twitter.com/ma6amasa)), ume said AU where akira is tetsuo's brother and masa said tetsuo needs to sleep! and i said so true besties, so here it is.

Tetsuo opens his eyes to two missed calls and a flock of messages rolling in the moment his phone connects to the trembling internet connection of his house. Akira stands in front of his bed, looking at the device like it personally slapped him on the face. Or that's what Tetsuo presumes the slow blinking means, since Akira's expressions are always different shades of the same grey colour.

He checks the time, it's four in the morning and the calls are from Kaneda which either means he needs to be bailed out again or that he's piss drunk and can't find his keys.

"Go back to sleep," he tells Akira, as he lifts his shoulders from the stiff mattress.

There's a kink in his neck, and Akira doesn't budge from his bedside, so Tetsuo has to physically pick him up and tuck him in, like he's a god-damned mother or something. Akira seems unrestful, he turns once Tetsuo has finished smoothing the bed covers or else he knows the kid will throw a fit.

"I'm going out for a while, okay?" he speaks slowly, Akira watches him with that disturbing stare of his, Tetsuo tries not to feel too irritated.

He huffs, "If you're good, Kaneda will play with you tomorrow," at the mention of the other boy's name, Akira settles more comfortably on his bed, even though he still looks like a corpse.

Tetsuo snorts at the motion, fucking figures his brother likes Kaneda more than him. And to think he has to collect his sorry ass. Akira closes his eyes, and it’s so difficult to tell whether he’s fallen asleep or he’s just laying still, but Tetsuo doesn’t really care as long as he doesn’t accidentally kill himself while trying to get something from the top shelf, so he gets up again, and turns down the lights. 

He moves out of the room, grabbing keys and the thin, blue anorak, slipping it on with a sigh. Everything would be easier if Kaneda wasn’t such a stupid shithead, Tetsuo sends a thought to the heavens, _please let him be alive, or at least out of jail._ When he closes the apartment’s door behind him, another text lights the screen of his phone, so at least he knows Kaneda is coherent enough to send him his position.

Tokyo's night hits him in the face, this far out of the centre the lights don't really reach the sky, but the stars don't shine brightly and it feels like this is all Tetsuo is ever going to be able to reach; not the stars, not the city's neons, a washed out version of the two. His feet stomp loudly on the metal of the stairs, the neighbour’s dog barks once he hears the noise. Tetsuo scratches the back of his head, that dog is a menace, Akira is so terrified of him he refuses to go outside if he thinks he could see him, even though he’s usually chained.

Tetsuo snarls at the animal when he revs the engine, Kaneda is not far away from the bus stop they went to when school was still something that mattered, and the familiar road is easy to travel in the stillness of the deep night. Some lights are just now dotting the screen of windows that surrounds him, tall buildings covering the moon descending. Tetsuo doesn’t think himself incredibly bright, he dropped out at sixteen and got himself a job at a mechanic that pays poorly but keeps his mind occupied, and he knows, he understands that logically Tokyo is going to eat him alive, that his best prospect is to live an uneventful life riddled with debts and the medical expenses for his _special_ brother and his _special_ needs, but he finds in this liminal universe, in between awake and asleep, that perhaps there’s a space for himself, too, if he snuggles tight and nestles himself in the crack of needed and necessary.

Kaneda always needs him, at least, whether Tetsuo likes it or not. He makes a sharp turn, bending until his knees almost hit the concrete of the road, and the cold almost-morning air fills his lungs and the back of his anorak. Kaneda is sitting under the thin plastic roof of the stop, not even on the bench, legs askew and hands on his belly, like he’s supposed to be there.

He’s got this ability, Tetsuo loathes it, to make everything he does sound smart, even though Kaneda Shotaro is not known for his brain. But the point stands, and Tetsuo has to bear the sight of him, dressed up like he’s fishing for modelling contracts in Harajuku; Tetsuo thinks the only thing he could model for is the image of the cancer-ridden lungs on cigarette packets. The thing is, if he told him that he’d actually take it as a compliment, because Kaneda is stupid, and so is Tetsuo. 

“Yo,” he says, slurring a bit. Tetsuo sighs.

“You’re wasted,” he taps the sole of Kaneda’s sneaker with his own shoe, and it moves, limply, like it’s not attached to a living body.

“Wasted potential,” Kaneda snickers, and he tries to get up. Tetsuo would offer a hand, but he thinks Kaneda deserves to suffer for having dragged him all the way out of his bed at four in the morning.

He stumbles, using Tetsuo as leverage until he stands upright with wobbling legs. His breath smells like beer, but nothing else, and the stuffy smart jacket he’s got from his father doesn’t have any vomit on it, so he crosses out the option of Kaneda going to a fucking rave on a Tuesday and resorts to walk him back to his bike.

“How did you get here?” Tetsuo doesn’t expect an answer, but Kaneda still mumbles out some words.

“Yamagata drove,” he says, gripping his shoulder.

“And why hasn’t he drove you all the way to your fucking home?” 

Kaneda is stable enough to stand without swaying too much, Tetsuo considers this as a victory and, testimony to the fact that he’s not the piece of shit most of the people around him think he is, he grabs the helmet he’s never wore once in his life and puts it on Kaneda’s head. He grumbles, but gracefully accepts it.

“Don’t remember,” Kaneda sits on the back of his bike, he looks more awake now, but there’s an opaque glaze to his eyes, Tetsuo knows he’ll fall asleep soon.

“You’re so full of shit,” he grumbles, mounting the bike and deciding that it’s not worth it, to drive all the way to Kaneda’s house only to see his mother and get asked questions he doesn’t know the answer of.

He takes the same road he came from, and hopes Kaneda won’t fall off. The threat doesn’t stand, though, since the other boy holds his waist so tight he might as well cut the circulation of his lower body off. He doesn’t complain because it’s better like this, even though it makes his throat clog up and palms clammy, than to scrape Kaneda’s guts from the asphalt. Kaneda snorts, since he knows that Tetsuo is right and lets out a single _woop_ as the bike underneath them moves in the now-awake outskirts. 

He focuses on not crashing in the short ride to his apartment, and Kaneda stays silent for the most part, but when he parks he starts spluttering complete nonsense about Yamagata and how rude he is, which is an understatement and it’s completely possible that he left Kaneda to rot on the side of the road because Kaneda tends to shout when he’s drunk, and Yamagata has very little patience. Tetsuo would have probably done the same. 

“Shut the fuck up, would you,” he hisses, once Kaneda’s voice turns in that high pitched way it does when he’s blatantly making complaints up for the sake of being annoying. 

Kaneda smirks, “Make me,” he says, like he’s forgotten who Tetsuo is. 

“I’ll murder you, that’s what I’ll do,” he answers, pushing the bike back into the little parking space he managed to bargain after spending a month of his savings. 

Kaneda doesn’t seem bothered by the threat, Tetsuo has to admit that they’re always devoid of meaning so it’s not like it surprises him, but he bounces on the stairs as if the alcohol flew out of his body. His shoes squeak, the red leather of his pants shines under the street lamps that will turn off any moment now and Tetsuo feels stuck in between the landing of his apartment and Kaneda’s right side, facing him, the left shoulder against the wall next to his door, his neck exposed and tainted.

Tetsuo used to have conflicted feelings, he still does if he has to be honest, and he made peace with the fact that Kaneda will only ever see him as little Tetsuo too scared of breaking his bones with the other boys, young Tetsuo who cries and screams like a girl, whom he has to stand up for, to be anything but that. Kaneda is a good person, in the fucked up reality they live in, Kaneda is good. Tetsuo will live with that, and pretend it doesn’t make his heart boil and burn.

He brings the keys to the flimsy door, and the noise of the lock opening makes Kaneda raise his head, and shuffle awkwardly inside. Akira is behind the sofa, barely tall enough to be seen, but his eyes light up when he sees Kaneda.

“Hey kiddo,” Kaneda smiles, with his eyes half closed. Akira moves towards them, raising his arms to be picked up.

Tetsuo hates them, when they do that. He hates being left behind and he hates seeing Kaneda being good at something he’ll never be able to do. Racing and everything else he can compete with, Akira’s good grace is a whole nother thing. 

“You’re getting bigger,” Kaneda says, swinging him around like Akira’s a cat, “another year and I won’t be able to pick you up again.”

Akira doesn’t say anything, if he did Tetsuo would probably implode, but he gurgles happily and it’s worse, because he’ll never get used to it. Kaneda just smiles, and brings him back to his room, like Tetsuo did before.

When he returns, he drapes himself over the sofa, and placidly lays there, not caring about Tetsuo, still standing. 

“Thanks, by the way,” he mutters, groaning a bit when the hard skeleton of the couch digs in his bones.

Tetsuo built it himself, with scrap parts his boss let him take home, but they don’t exactly have the money to buy nice cushions, and the only thing that prevents it from being completely unusable is the thick layer of winter blankets picked up from charity centres. 

“Whatever, you’re going to spend the day with my brother as I work, tomorrow,” he mutters, taking off the anorak. 

The singlet he usually wears to sleep is stained with motor oil and it stinks so badly, he gets why Akira was so skittish before. He can see Kaneda shrug from the sofa, _fine by me,_ he says, because he works the graveyard shift at the same discount market his mother used to work, and he spends most of the day lazing around. 

When he moves to go to his room, Kaneda yanks his arm towards him, Tetsuo stumbles and hits his backbone on the seatback. He groans, while Kaneda just snorts and moves so that he’s sitting next to him.

“Are you okay?”

“The fuck is this about?” Tetsuo asks, avoiding his eyes.

“You haven’t come to the bar anymore, even Yamagata’s worried,” Kaneda shifts and brings his hand to the back of his neck, kneading on the pressure points and Tetsuou has to force himself not to let out a pleased groan.

“I’ve been clean for a year, now,” Tetsuo says, and it hurts a bit, “I _—_

He thinks of Akira and the small group of friends he has at school, Takashi and Kiyoko and Masaru, and how much he’s opened up after being able to go to somewhere that caters to his needs, he thinks of his mother and he thinks of Kaneda who punched a kid in the face, breaking his nose, because he once made Tetsuo cry. The concept of relapsing is not something he can afford.

“Nobody is forcing you to do anything, Tets,” he says.

Tetsuo scoffs, of course nobody is, but Kaneda doesn’t live in his mind, doesn’t understand being an outsider, Kaneda can look at the sun directly in its eyes and not get burnt. 

“Whatever, it’s not like you guys would care.”

Kaneda recoils a bit from that, “The fuck?”

“I said it’s whatever,” Tetsuo stands up, and so does Kaneda.

“Who said we don’t care? That I don’t?”

“Don’t start, I have work in three hours,” he moves to his bedroom, the layout of his apartment is as familiar to him as it is to Kaneda, even in the semi-darkness, it’s easy to avoid bumping into the dead plants and the low cupboard where they keep their pans, since the kitchen is too tiny.

Kaneda has the decency to close the door behind him, Tetsuo doesn’t really want to argue with him over this, but now that they’re here he might as well shout at someone.

“ _You_ started it, stop being a child and talk for once,” Kaneda sneers, opening his arms wide.

That’s the problem, isn’t it, Tetsuo thinks, he’s either too young or not young enough, he’s perennially stuck in the middle. Kaneda looks at him with furious eyes and Tetsuo thinks _good_ because at least when he’s angry, even if he’s still drunk, he doesn’t treat him like he treats Akira. 

“I don’t get you at all,” Kaneda continues, when he sees that Tetsuo won’t answer, “Do you think you’re better than us? That's why you ain’t around anymore?”

Tetsuo recoils back, “Are you fucking kidding me,” he snorts, “I know you’re like, demented but are you fucking kidding me.”

Akira is probably awake, listening to them argue and in three hours, when it’s time for him to go to school, he won’t want to be touched, and Tetsuo looks at Kaneda who’s turning redder by the minute, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

“You don’t even tell me anything, I literally have to, to force you.”

“Think about what you just said, moron,” Tetsuo snarls, throwing his dirty singlet in his direction. He’s awake now, the least he can do is get changed for work. 

They keep on arguing, and all things considered it’s a pretty mild fight for their standards, nothing valuable gets broken and it’s the usual topic of discussion, when Kaneda calls him a coward and Tetsuo spits venom in his direction. And until Kaneda says a very specific set of words, Tetsuo acts in automatic, he lets his baggy pants fall and searches for his work uniform, and then Kaneda says, “I just- I want my best friend back.”

And Tetsuo stops, his arms inside the sleeves of the white t-shirt he wears underneath the jumpsuit, and his lungs feel like they’re shucking from their pleura. Kaneda is behind him, he moves, shuffling on the carpet, and then his forehead hits his shoulder blades; Tetsuo's skin prickles with the unknown feeling of touch after starving himself for so long. They hugged everyday, when Kaneda was still Sho, and when Tetsuo was an only child crying all the time. 

“You’re drunk,” he swallows around the time-thick emptiness of his throat, Kaneda digs his head more firmly.

“Not really, no. I don’t know what to do with you, I want to ask you what’s wrong, but then you get so mad, and avoid me for a week.”

Tetsuo doesn’t think himself incredibly bright, but he understands that sometimes being an adult means knowing when it’s appropriate to be honest.

“It’s because, fuck,” he moves, a bit abruptly and puts on his shirt, while Kaneda’s eyes shimmer and Tetsuo _prays_ those aren’t tears, because Kaneda crying is one of those things he won’t ever be able to face.

“You treat me like a fucking child-

“I don’t-

“You _do,”_ he flicks him on the forehead, Kaneda huffs out an _ouch,_ devoid of sentiment. 

“Sometimes,” Tetsuo licks his lips, “sometimes I wish you just saw me as someone who doesn’t need to be saved, it makes me feel miserable.”

“I-” then, because he realises he can’t retort, “It’s because I care about you,” Kaneda says, he slowly brings his hands to the side of his face, tilting it upwards.

“Tetsuo, you _must_ at least know this, right?” 

He snorts, licking his teeth, Kaneda has a bewildered look, as if he just realised now, and shit, Tetsuo thinks, perhaps he just did.

“You don’t treat Kei like this,” he says, not looking at him. Kaneda’s fingertips are calloused, he feels the ridges of a scar on his palm when the other squeezes his cheeks.

“Don’t bring her into this, I’m talking about you.”

That’s the other thing; Tetsuo could say a lot of things, most of it he could play it safe, and shrug and say sorry, even though he’s not. He could make a joke, he could scream and he could do a whole plethora of _other_ stuff that isn’t kissing what he’s alway thought was the most unreachable star of all, but he does that instead, and he can’t even blame it on anything but his own stupidity.

Kaneda doesn’t do anything, instead. He doesn’t push him away, which would have been painful, nor does he bring him closer, which would have been preposterous, so Tetsuo moves back, and for once, keeps his neck straight.

He looks at Tetsuo, and keeps on looking, with a stare that’s not particularly explicative, they stand still inside his room, the tiny, creaky bed and the car magazines piled up on the floor. The toolbox and the old robot toys he used to play with, that Akira dislikes since they’re not round enough. Kaneda has spent a lot of time inside this room, that all the faces he’s had since growing up mix on the canvas in front of him, and none of them make sense.

“Did- what?” he finally says, not moving. The sky is getting brighter, his mother is going to come home soon. 

Tetsuo has the tendency to act without thinking, so he just shuts his mouth.

“No, you ain’t doing this, bastard,” Kaneda sounds even angrier than before, “you’re talking, now.”

“What is there to say,” he spits, “go cry about your fag best friend to Yamagata if you’re so devastated.”

“You’re an idiot,” his hands spasm over his face, “I went drinking with Yamagata because my fag best friend wasn’t talking to me, and he got angry so he left me close to your house,” there’s heat in his voice, his shoulders raise until they hit his ears and he bites his lips, wets them.

"I didn't know what to do," then more quietly, “I missed you.”

Tetsuo blinks twice, he thinks he gets why Akira walks away if he doesn’t understand something, “You’re definitely drunk,” he says, it's easy and it offers an excuse, which Kaneda doesn’t take, seeing that he rebuts with, “I just told you I’m not, and I’ll remember this.”

Kaneda hugs him close, “I was angry at you, I thought you didn’t want to, to stay with me anymore.” It shouldn't make his heart pump blood faster, but it does, so Tetsuo exhales, there’s a headache forming behind his eyes, slithering to his temples, the scar there when he almost died in an accident, he’s not bright, he didn’t know.

“I thought, with Kei and everything. It was better like this.” 

“You think too much about things that don’t make sense,” Kaneda replies, gripping his back tighter. 

Tetsuo closes his eyes, he moves just enough to free his arms from the vise of Kaneda’s own, and to hug him back. He thinks of a story where they don’t find each other after every fight, and sighs with relief after Kaneda mutters _I’m sorry,_ against his neck. 

“I am, too,” Tetsuo sniffs, “You still have to babysit Akira, though.”

Kaneda laughs, “Yeah, I guessed. We’ll talk later.”

Tetsuo knows they will.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> title is from the glass animals song, it's a mood  
> u can follow me on twitter (@[mensmentis](https://twitter.com/mensmentis)) or on tumblr ([creamation](https://creamation.tumblr.com/)) :P


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